


Afterlife

by Lauren_is_a_moron



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Sort Of, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft, Zombies, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 03:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16189457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauren_is_a_moron/pseuds/Lauren_is_a_moron
Summary: Betty Cooper and her friends meet a grisly fate at the hands of a coven of witches in Sweet Water forest. Sabrina Spellman arrives to clean up the mess, but finds herself bumping into the group's distraught friend who, after realising that she's a witch, demands that she brings them back. With disastrous consequences.  Sure, Betty and her friends are alive again. But there's a deep hunger ripping them apart inside. Sabrina and Cheryl have to find a way how to hide the fact that the Archie gang aren't quite the Archie gang anymore. And the Blossom girl can't quite help falling for the witch who may have possibly triggered the end of Riverdale, and the world.





	Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on a film called "all Cheerleader's die" and it's possibly the best thing I've ever watched

  
Betty Cooper trusted Kevin Keller with her life. With all of their lives. It was their last summer before college, and Betty was determined to make the most of it. So, piling in the back of Kevin's beaten up civic, The Sad Breakfast Club planned to road-trip across America, as far as they could go. They would see the sights, make memories, and best of all? Spend every waking moment of it together. Just the five of them.

Normally if it was somebody else driving, like Archie or Jughead, Betty would stay awake for the most part. Especially when she knew Archie got distracted by the radio easily, and would be head banging and jamming out to old school Van Halen, before realising he was about to meet his maker. Especially in the pitch black, which was why he was designated driver in the daylight.

For Jughead, it was more simple. Food. If Jughead was eating, there was a ninety percent chance he was driving one-handed. So again, there was no way Betty was letting her boyfriend drive in the middle of the night while most likely sneaking bites of burger and fries at any chance he got. The thing was, Betty loved Archie and Jughead. She adored them. Her best friend, and her boyfriend. But there was no way she was trusting them to drive 2-5 hours in the middle of the night down desolate winding roads with stories to tell. Most likely ghost stories. Horror stories. Which she didn't want to be part of because of their reckless driving.

But with Kevin, it was different. Betty didn't even need to stay awake when he was driving, because she knew she was safe. She felt completely comfortable with Kevin at the wheel. After Archie's latest attempt at annoying Veronica (Number #3) had failed, a game of iSpy, ending in the raven haired girl playfully gagging him so he couldn't continue, Betty had curled up in the backseat, with her legs thrown over Jughead's lap. Archie and Veronica had both fallen victim to slumber, her best friend still with her head against the redhead's chest. While Archie's head was tipped back, his eyes shut, snoring softly. Jughead had fallen asleep with his headphones in. She could still hear what sounded like the Fight Club soundtrack softly, still obliviously playing into the boy's sleeping mind. It was a cute sight. Jughead Jones was adorable when he was asleep. The boy's face was pressed into his seat-belt, his dark hair hanging in closed eyes. Betty felt like waking Jughead up, just to have someone to talk to. There was Kevin, obviously. But the boy seemed to be in his own little world as he stared at the road ahead, unblinking.

She hoped he wasn't tired. Betty glanced at her sleeping friends, and a small smile curved on her lips. Losing herself in sweet, sweet slumber did seem pretty appealing. The blonde leaned against the window, pressing her cheeks into the cool glass. At that moment, Betty couldn't have been happier. More peaceful. The radio was playing Hamilton songs at a pitch only Kevin could hear and enjoy, and her closest friends, her family, were sprawled out on the seat next to her. Betty giggled softly. How did she get so lucky? She couldn't believe that these were the kids she was going to spend the rest of her life with. They had already made a spoken pact. They would grow up together; Her and Jughead, Veronica and Archie, and Kevin. The five of them would become parents, aunts uncles. A football player, writers, and an heir to Lodge Industries. Hell, they'd grow old together. Kevin, with his significant other. Such a bright and fulfilling life was ahead of them, and this was just the start. Just the start of their- of their journey...

The motion of the car was making her eyelids heavy as Betty's thoughts lost their momentum. With her mind teetering on the edge of slumber, the small blonde made herself comfortable, letting her eyes flicker shut. "Kev," she mumbled, her lips moving against the car window. The boy hummed in acknowledgement. She could sense the boy leaning forward and turning the music down. "Sorry, are you trying to sleep?"

Betty laughed, nestling her head further into the window. She was so warm. So comfortable, with her boyfriend's legs thrown over her. Jughead Jones was her very own personal blanket. "No, no...I'm good!" she replied. "Let Hamilton sing me to sleep, Kev."

He chucked. "So be it, Betty Cooper." Kevin murmured, before the familiar upbeat melody of a song unknown to her, slowly started to lull her to sleep. Betty allowed herself to be dragged into darkness by gentle fingers grasping at her mind, ready to pull it into oblivion. But it was an oblivion she could wake up from. It was just falling asleep.

At least...that's what she thought. It felt like only seconds had gone by, before Betty found herself violently yanked, both out of the comfortable dreamworld she had situated herself inside, and physically thrown forwards. Kevin's cry sounded out, echoing with he others, as they too were rudely awoken. Betty was only able to sit up, her chest squeezing. She managed a single look out of the window, and- there it was. Blinding lights heading straight for them. Kevin was wrestling with the steering wheel, and she only had enough time to attempt a scream which clogged at the back of her throat, before- impact. It felt like smashing headfirst into a brick wall. She was suddenly free of her seat belt, and was flying forwards; a tangle of limbs heading straight for-

Nothing. Betty didn't feel anything after that, or for a while. For a very long moment, it felt like she was really dead. Suspended in the dark. And then after a while, the world seemed to drift back to reality. Except reality was agonising pain. Betty almost wished for the darkness back. She came to, sprawled on cold concrete. Her whole body felt like it had been shattered, her head still spinning itself off of its axis. When Betty managed to open her eyes through fraying eyelashes she realized she was staring at a starless sky. Something warm was leaking down the back of her neck.

The girl was lying on her back which was strange. Though the occurrence didn't really hit her until she heard the low murmuring. Her her heart clenched, but when she tried to get up, her body complained, and she fell back onto the concrete, gasping for breath. Except when Betty turned her head again, her cheeks scathing against the rough asphalt, there was another body lying next to her sprawled on his back. Betty bit back a scream. Archie. He looked as broken as she felt. The boy was pale, and barely breathing. His face was dyed scarlet, blood staining his cheeks, his forehead, dripping from his nose and lips. When she risked a closer look, straining her body to shuffle towards him, Betty saw the damage and shut her eyes, squeezing them shut. This was a nightmare

Any minute now she would wake up, still safe and sound in the backseat of Kevin's car. Except it felt real. Her shaky breaths were real. her trembling body, as well as the blood oozing from her nose and ears. After a moment, she forced her eyes open.

Archie's legs were twisted, his arms limp and lifeless. Betty started to cry, feeling hot tears burn in her eyes, splashing down her cheeks. But then a shadow was stepping in front of her, bending down and grabbing Archie's legs, yanking him like a rag doll. Betty was barely able to register what was happening, before she saw another figure, this time carrying Kevin Keller bridal style in their arms. The wreckage of Kevin's Civic was a burning inferno on the other side of the road she was laying on. Rescue. Betty's mind cried out. The mysterious figures were surely rescuing them, right? That had to be it. So when a third figure grabbed her by her legs and started to drag her roughly across chalky asphalt, then grass- and finally rocky forest floor. Betty didn't move, Even when it got more obvious that she was just being pulled further and further into a forest clearing.

She ran through a quick diagnosis of her injuries. Her head hurt, which meant possible concussion, and her legs- oh god, her legs felt like they were broken.

Just- keep looking at the stars. Betty stared at them as fresh tears dripped down her cheeks, teetering on her dry lips. Everything hurt. Her body felt like it was ready to give out. Squeezing her eyes shut, Betty said a prayer to every god she knew- both real and fictional. Even Percy Jackson. She'd worshipped the books when she was younger. Her mind spun with memories of every book in her hands, flipping over crisp pages as 10 year old Elizabeth thrived in the fantasy world. But Betty couldn't stay in her mind forever. At some point she had to grip onto reality. Which was that she was being taken somewhere.

_The rescuers. They've come to rescue us. She begged._

_Please._

They weren't rescuers. When Betty was eventually forced to stand on wobbly legs, and then dragged unceremoniously through brush, until she felt her back slamming into something hard. She was mute, unable to scream through the mouthful of blood she was dying to spit out. Her thoughts were an array of panic. Had she punctured a lung? Why weren't- why weren't they helping her?! Her body simply flopped, like dead weight, until something harsh was twined around her stomach, holding her to - Betty snapped her head up, blinking through her tears. It was only then did she see the true horror of what awaited her.

She choked out a cry which was barely audible as her gaze flickered across the clearing. There were five trees, including hers, all surrounding a dying fire, where figures in black stood. To her right was Archie, who she was pretty sure was half dead. He was slumped, his head of red hair plastered to his forehead with blood. The firelight cast his pale face in a haunting light. His eyes were closed, but his body was straining against the restraints wrapped around his torso, pinning him to the trunk of the tree.

It took a moment for Betty to realize what was happening. The five trees, the golden light of the fire, the figures... finally let out a soft whimper. Except it was supposed to be a terrified howl, and angry screech as veins ignited. She wanted to cry, to scream- to beat down her attackers. But her body was so- it was so weak.

Kevin was opposite her; in the same state as Archie. He too was slumped forward, the rope pinning to the tree was stretching from keeping him upright.

Greendale. Her head was spinning. They were in Greendale. Betty licked her lips, her gaze never leaving Archie or Kevin, praying that they were still kicking. How many times had her mother warned her of the occult in the neighbouring town? The so-called witch's that prowled the barrier between Riverdale and Greendale, snatching kids and sacrificing them to their god? But they had just been horror stories to scare her and Polly when they were children and a well known story told around the campfire every Summer. Except now Betty was in her own horror story, and there was no escape. She was too drained to fight back.

The other two trees were empty, apart from severed rope which looked like it had been burnt to a crisp, still wrapped around the trunk.

No. Betty wanted to scream, but her lungs felt suffocated. Every time she moved, her mouth filled with the bitter taste of rusty pennies, and she'd be forced to spit. Scarlet dribbled down her chin. When she moved to spit again, a figure came to loom over her, and she stiffened. "Don't bother, sweetheart," the gruff voice laughed. And then everything seemed to go so fast. Betty was suddenly aware of a familiar cry.

"Betty!" his voice sent shivers down her spine, and she wanted so badly to reply- to yell that she was okay- she was fine...just a few broken bones, that it was nothing a hospital couldn't fix...except then something cold, something icy and sharp, was being plunged into her chest, and then she was vomiting gallons of the red stuff. It splattered onto the ground, and her vision- it started to go blurry. Oh. She wanted to laugh, and to her surprise- she did. But she gurgled, blood streaming from her lips.

_Oh, Juggie. Perhaps this is something a hospital can't fix._

"Betty, Archie! Oh god, Kevin!" Jughead's scream was almost comforting as Betty felt herself slowly start to detach from the world around her. Her restraints were cut, and she was hitting the ground. But it was too late to try and save herself. She could only lie in her own blood, and pray for death.

Before she heard the demise of the others. There were footsteps in Archie's direction, and his soft whimpering. Betty squeezed her eyes shut, and prayed for it to be over. For the pain to stop- the cold, the bitter cold snaking around her body, pulling it apart one by one. She just wanted it to-

 

* * *

 

 

The Crusaders had struck again. It wasn't really surprising to Sabrina. But she wasn't expecting the cult's victims to be her age. They normally took middle aged people. Homeless people with nothing to live for. But according to her aunts Hilda and Zelda, these kids were her age, give or take a few years. Which was upsetting, knowing six kids lives had been snatched from them before they could even embrace what life had in store for them. The Crusaders were a cult who resided in the woods, drank the blood of animals and the meat of deer. Nothing else. That was their strict diet.

Sabrina used to think they were a myth, a story to scare Green-dale children, stopping them from wandering into the woods. But over the years, citizens had gone missing. Both from Greendale, and their neighbouring mortal town; Riverdale. The Crusaders were known for not taking any mercy. They were cruel, killing without empathy or sympathy. They were cold blooded killers.

"So they're Riverdale kids?" Sabrina's voice was soft, a gentle whisper. She didn't really feel like speaking properly. Sweet-water woods was a well known place where sacrificial rituals took place. Even her family had taken part in them before she was born. Her gaze never left the black cat at her side.

Salem walked with purpose, his tail stuck up. "Mm." the cat murmured, hopping over a fallen branch and mewling impatiently for her to pick up the pace. Sabrina rolled her eyes, following suite.

Salem sighed. "Pity, isn't it?" He said. "They were crucified, Brina." the cat turned to her, cocking his head to the side, twinkling green eyes illuminating the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay with this? It's pretty hard hitting."

Sabrina wasn't sure if she was. She'd taken the assignment, only because she wanted to prove herself, that she was a Spellman. She wasn't afraid of anything. Except now that she was thinking about the description of the scene, of the bodies, her heart was starting to race in her chest. She forced a laugh. "Of course I'm okay Salem."

Except that wasn't strictly true. Sabrina felt sick, as her converse crunched through dead bracken strewn across the forest floor. She wore her favourite black cloak, thrown over a t-shirt and jeans. As much as she tried to stop them, her hands were shaking by her sides. Her stomach had been dancing all night, ever since The Spellman's had gotten the call. Her aunt Hilda hadn't been on the phone for long. It was simple. There were six dead kids in the woods. And it was painfully obvious that they had been sacrificed by The Crusaders, since the sick bastards were obsessed with pleasing a pagan god called "Elrik" who required five human sacrifices every four years. Sabrina remembered the last ones. A family of six slaughtered in their own tent. Thank god there had been no children.

The cat chuckled. "Keep telling yourself that, blondie." he paused and sniffed the air, and the witch's heart sank. Shivers zig-zagged down her spine. "What is it?" she breathed. The urge to turn around and go home was overwhelming. All she wanted then, was Harvey. Except it was 3am and the boy was fast asleep. If he tried sneaking out, his father would kill him. All Sabrina had was herself, who she was sure was going to break apart at the first sighting of the horror of what had unfolded hours ago. If Harvey was here, he'd hold her hand, squeezing it for dear life. The young witch held onto that thought, imagining the boy's warm hands, his fingers entwining with hers. He was going to be mad in the morning, that not only had she gone through something as traumatic as fetching six dead kids. But not asked for his help or support. She'd only told the boy that she was a witch a few months ago, and he was obsessed with making sure that she was safe.

"We're close." Salem muttered, snapping the girl out of her thoughts. The cat was sniffing the air again and had become visibly alert. He rose on his hind legs, ears prickling. "Can you smell that?"

This was what she was afraid of.

Sabrina swallowed. She couldn't smell anything, except from the damp mildew of the woods and rotting branches crunching under her feet as she took another daring step. Pursing her lips and praying that they weren't suddenly standing directly over the site where the murder had taken place, Sabrina choked back a cry. "Smell what?" she hissed. It was Summer, yet a biting breeze blew her tangled blonde hair from where it had nestled under her hood. She shivered, her voice a childish moan. "Salem, shit, I don't like this."

The cat turned to look at her. "Like I said a thousand times, Sabrina. You don't have to do this." the cat tutted. "Hilda and Zelda had no right to give you such a horrific job, young lady. You're practically a child yourself."

Sabrina wanted more than anything to agree with Salem, and abandon her assignment. But they were far too close to turn back. She held her breath, placed her hand over her nose and mouth, and signalled for the cat to continue. Scoffing, the cat did just that, continuing on. The further they ventured into the woods, Sabrina began to understand what the cat meant. Her gaze flicked between twisted shadows of trees looming over her, and her nose tingled. The stench made her stomach turn. Burning. The witch let out a shaky breath, forcing herself to continue. Though with every step, the smell got progressively stronger, until bile began to rise in her throat. Salem froze in his tracks, his paws sinking into the ground. "Stay by my side," the cat mumbled. "Can you smell it now?"

She could. It wasn't just burning. Sabrina could smell something tangy tickling the back of her nose. The stench was putrid, sending her stomach catapulting into her throat.

"What is that?" The girl started forwards. She felt dizzy. Fuck, she should have brought Harvey. What was she thinking? Did she really think she could deal with this?

"Go slowly." Salem said softly. "Don't rush yourself, okay? Now, do you remember the spell? It's a simple teleportation incantation. You don't need to go near them-"

The cat's words sounded a million miles away, and Sabrina felt like she had been dunked into an icy tank of water, blood roared in her ears, and that smell plagued her senses, creeping into her mind. She could feel ghostly fingers seeping into her nostrils. Burned fingers. She could imagine blackened, charred flaky flesh grasping onto her.

"N- no," Sabrina stumbled back, her breaths coming out thick and fast. Her chest felt suffocated, her throat dry. "I can't...I can't do this!"

Another step back, and another- Sabrina was staggering, her arms flailing, until she felt her back slam into something hard. Pain shot down her spine and she bit back a cry, twisting around. It was a tree. And Salem was suddenly at her feet, sniffing something on the ground.

"Oh, the poor child." the cat mewled. Sabrina wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, she wanted to run. But instead, she found herself staring blankly at the ground. What she was standing on. Hands. She realized. Pale, thin fingers half buried in soil. The Crusader's liked to bury their victims. But they didn't do a good job of it. Sabrina could clearly see the body of what looked like a boy, sprawled on the ground. She glimpsed the remnants of a band t-shirt and jeans, the material blackened, hanging off his scorched torso. His hair had survived the fire, hanging limply in closed eyes. The kid looked like he been struggling, burying his face into the ground, his fingers grasping for dear life into the soil as he attempted to crawl away from his assailants.

"His name..." Salem's voice was gentle. He normally had a snappy tongue. But he was so gentle, so respectful, around the dead. "His name was Jones."

Sabrina still couldn't completely understand how the cat could know the identities of the dead. But then again, he was a talking cat. Nothing was impossible.

"Jones?" she said softly. Salem nodded. "Mm. He liked old cinema, only literary classics, and..." the cat leaned close to the boy, taking a whiff.

"Ahh. He had a taste for burgers."

Sabrina didn't realise hot tears were slipping down her cheeks. "Why are you telling me all of this?" she could barely hold back a broken sob. The cat sighed and turned to her with sympathetic warm eyes. "Because it'll hurt less." he said. Before she could reply, the cat jumped across the boy, landing on the chest of another fallen kid.

"Salem!" Wiping her eyes, Sabrina straightened up. "You can't do that!"

"Relax, Brina." the cat muttered. He sat, poised, on a blonde girl. "Cooper." the cat hummed. "She died alone."

Sabrina clenched her jaw. "Salem, stop it."

"Just look at them, Sabrina. It's makes it easier, I promise."

She didn't want to look. But suddenly it was hard not to. she lifted her head up, and...oh. She didn't scream, managing to hold it back, and managed a tinny whine escaping her dry lips. There they were, just like her aunts had described.

The charred remains of five kids, lying on the ground. The Jones boy and the Cooper girl joining three others. Sabrina's eyes stung from the smell of singed flesh. The ghost of a fire was in the middle of the clearing, orange embers still sparking in the darkness. Sabrina simply stared, while Salem circled the each kid, tutting to himself. "I think I know one of these kids..." he said, and the girl blinked, her lips curling into a frown. "What?"

But before the cat could say any more, a rustle startled her, and she spun around, her breath catching in her throat. Salem hissed at something only he could see.

"Who's there?" Sabrina swallowed again. The Crusader's wouldn't hurt her, since she was a Spellman. But after seeing what they had done, all she wanted to do was cast them to madam Satan. An eternal life of torture, for what they had done to five innocents.

Regaining her confidence, Sabrina cleared her throat. She was trembling. "I said, who's there?"

The girl was like a force of nature; a hurricane of blood red hair flying at her, wild green eyes and ruby lips twisted into a crazed snarl. For a heart-stopping moment, Sabrina thought the whirlwind of claret, matching the telltale stains on the forest floor, was a Crusader. And had returned to clear up their horrific crime. But members of the witch cult wore cloaks, very much like the Spellman's. They most certainly didn't wear stylish red leather jackets and skinny jeans. The witch stumbled back, swallowing a cry when the girl grabbed her shoulders, shaking her - hard. Her head spun while the redhead screeched in her face, eyeliner dripping down her face like onyx tears.

"What did you do?!" she cried, and Sabrina had a hard time registering what the girl was crying, and why- why was she crying? Irrational anger streamed through her, igniting every nerve. With a pained cry, she manged to shove the girl backwards. Why on earth was this girl so upset, so hysterical? Her thoughts were a cloud of confusion. Biting her lip, she steeled herself. _Don't cry._ She told herself. _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry-_

_Oh god, pull yourself together Spellman!_

She expected the girl to fall to her knees, or run off. But she wasn't going down that easily. The Scarlet Hurricane was panting, screaming like an animal; emerald coloured eyes blazing in the dark. "What happened?!" she was sobbing, battering at Sabrina's chest, and the youngest Spellman was having a hard time resisting the urge to back away. Clenching her fists, Sabrina gulped back a frustrated scream.

She should be the one crying and screaming! Why was the girl freaking out? Sabrina knew at the very back of her mind, that she was choosing anger over logical thinking; wasn't looking at the bigger picture. Her mind was a burning inferno of questions slamming into her skull.

"I-" Sabrina choked back a sob, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. She hadn't been expecting this. It had just been a simple job! And she couldn't even get it right! The biting wind whipped at her face, seemingly playing with the hysterical girl's hair too, ghostly fingers playing with straying strands. "I don't understand..." Truly, she didn't understand. This girl was like a ghost. She might as well have died with the others. What was she doing out here so late?

"Silly child." Salem, who was still beside her licking his paw, muttered. If cats could roll their eyes, she was sure he would be doing just that judging from his tone. His voice echoed in her mind, and she new it was important. What he was saying- it meant something. But right now she was being attacked by a random girl screeching gibberish.

Sabrina shot him a glare, while the stranger continued to aim shaky punches at her chest. It didn't hurt, but it was fucking irritating. Finally, her mouth worked, producing speech, as the girl's blows became less violent, turning into feeble hits. "Who- who are you?" she whimpered, grasping the girl's wrists, gripping them tight so she couldn't rag them away. Scarlet Hurricane's stared at her through dazed eyes. "Who am _I_?" she spat, hissing out a breath. "Who- who the hell are you?!" she turned the question back on Sabrina, tears sparkling in her eyes. "You- killed them!!" The girl sank to her knees beside one of the slumped forms of the kids and lifted her head to glare accusingly.

 _Oh._ Her mind began to clear of disorienting fog. It had stopped trying to register the horror around her, and was now picking apart this strange girl's appearance, coming to a grim conclusion and finally she was understanding. It hit her like a tumultuous wave of icy water, enveloping her. Finally there was clarity. Sabrina blinked at the girl, and her chest ached. It was bad enough having to deal with bodies...but...but with loved ones too? "You knew them?" she said softly. The girl frowned at her for a moment, before jumping to her feet, making Sabrina jump. "Know them?" Scarlet screeched. Sabrina winced. her words seemed to rattle the very woods around them. "Of course I fucking know them!"

"Of...of course." Sabrina forced a smile, when she wanted to cry. She wanted to break down like the girl. She wanted to screech and batter someone's chest until her fists were red raw, her voice a indecipherable croak. "I'm so sorry." she whispered.

The girl laughed. But there was no warmth. She looked ready to rip Sabrina's head off. "You're sorry?" she repeated. Every word was spat, saliva dripping down the girl's chin. Scarlet tore at her own hair, raking bright red nails down her face. "You're sorry- after you killed them," her manic eyes flickered to one of her friends. The blonde girl. Just one simple look at her dead friend seemed to fracture her, break apart any logic left inside her decaying mind. Before Sabrina could speak, or try and explain what she was sure looked incredibly bad on her- the girl was diving at her, a hysterical cry ripping from her throat; icy cold fingers were wrapped around her throat, fingernails digging into her flesh. "How could you?" the redhead was a babbling mess, and Sabrina had to do something before either of them got hurt. She recalled a spell she'd been taught by her aunts when her great uncle had died. Leymhoria. To put it simply; it calmed you down. It did the trick at her great uncle's funeral, where most of the occupants had been subdued from screaming profanities at the poor man's coffin, to muttering to themselves, rocking backwards and forwards in their chairs. Great Uncle Roberto hadn't been a great man.

The girl was still gripping her, and, fuck, it hurt. But part of her wanted the girl to hold onto her. Right now, as much as she hated it, she was the only anchor Scarlet had. She was a reluctant security blanket. So the witch held onto the girl, at first awkwardly, before wrapping her arms around her trembling form. "Leymhoria." she murmured, casting the spell as quietly as possible. Salem chuckled beside her. "That's the ticket."

Scarlet seemed to relax into her, going limp. She spied purple sparks glittering in the air around the two of them. The spell working its magic.

At first Sabrina thought the girl had fallen unconscious. Sabrina twisted her head, her gaze automatically snapping back to the boy with the band t-shirt. Jones. That's what Salem had called him, right? Her eyes stung. He had a life. That's what broke her apart, that's what made her more human than witch. Empathy. Jones had died so young, and the girl sobbing into her chest- they had been friends. Close. Something more? She'd never know. Jones looked peaceful, even if his skin was blackened, his eyes glued shut. the inferno that had meant to break him apart had stopped at his torso, sparing his face. Sabrina tore her gaze away from Jones, back to her problem at hand. Scarlet had straightened up, swiping at her swollen eyes angrily. "What did you do to me?" her voice was clear. It felt- wrong. For a girl who had suffered so much trauma, and seen awful things, a horror scene still frozen around them. Scarlet's tone was calm, and her eyes were wide with confusion. She held her hand over her heart. She was still shaking.

"Why am I not hurting?" The redhead's words were like a knife stabbing into her back. She could practically feel the slick edge grazing her spine. The girl's expression crumpled, but she didn't cry. The spell was stopping her. It was blanketing her thoughts, soothing her, stopping any irrational actions. But it was also taking away the ability to feel pain. Clearly she wasn't as oblivious as Sabrina thought. "I should - I should be hurting," Scarlet hugged herself. Every word that came from her lips was through a shaky gasp for breath, starved of oxygen. "I should feel like I can't breathe!" the girl cried. "I should- I should feel like I'm being suffocated, like my heart- my heart's been ripped out..." Scarlet stumbled away, her eyes wide, lips curled with disgust.

She should be screaming, Sabrina thought. But the agony that had ripped its way through her, the pain and loss, and suffering- all of it had been stripped from her.

"What did you do to me?!" The girl cried again. It was turning into a mantra. "Oh god, how- how am I so calm-" she gigged, pressing her hands to her lips, muffling it. "I've just found The Sad Breakfast Club dead in the fucking woods, and I'm so calm- I'm - I'm too calm. I'm too calm- I'm too calm!"

"What's your name, Child?" Salem asked the girl, and she stared back at him, her eyes growing cartoon like. Sabrina almost laughed. Almost.

"What, am I seeing talking cats now?" The girl hissed. Her eyes flickered, before she sighed. "Cheryl. Cheryl Blossom."

"Cheryl," Sabrina had to end this. As much as she wanted to stay with the girl, be that anchor she clearly needed- she had to get her job done. The witch held out her hand, and bowed respectfully. "I'm so, so sorry for your loss."

"My loss?" the girl laughed again. "They- they weren't my friends!" she cried. "Do you honestly think I'd place myself anywhere near them on the social scale?"

Sabrina blinked at the girl, confused. "I-"

"I mean, we could have been friends? But of course the curse of the social hierarchy cast over Riverdale High stopped us." Cheryl seemed to catch herself. "What am I saying?" she whispered, before she went full circle; her gaze once again on the witch. "I'm going to ask you again," Cheryl growled, taking a threatening step towards Sabrina. "I should be freaking out right now, because-" the redhead let out a soft breath. "It's not every day I come across a barbecue of my classmates in the middle of the fucking forest."

Classmates? From the look on the girl's face, and judging from the fact that Sabrina had to use the Leymhoria chant on her. Clearly they were closer than Cheryl let on.

Before Sabrina could reply, the girl was swiping at her dry eyes, as if trying to induce tears. "I can't - I can't cry!" she whimpered. "I'm trying to understand, but my head hurts, and I think I'm losing my mind-" Cheryl gasped. "Am I the one who's dead?" she was gripping her own chest again. "Is that why I can't feel? Why I can't cry?"

"Cheryl..." Sabrina spoke softly. Like how you'd talk to a child. But the girl wasn't finished. "Did I die with them?" she squeaked. "Oh god, am I- am I here too?!"

"Dear god, Child, shut it!!" Salem hissed. His tail flicked in irritation. Cheryl stared dumbly at him, and the cat sighed. "I know this is a lot to take in, but your incoherent babbling is driving me up the wall," Salem nodded at Sabrina. "My friend here had to chant you to calm you down. It's not permanent, don't worry. It will wear off."

Cheryl stared at Sabrina. "Chant?" the girl said softly. "You mean you used magic?" The charm was working perfectly. The redhead was almost too damn calm. She seemed to look pat the talking cat. Cheryl composed herself, swiping her hair out of her face and taking a deep breath. "Let me get this completely straight," she said shakily. "You, and...and Mr Whiskers here-" she gestured to Salem. "You can do magic?"

Sabrina nodded. "That's right." she murmured. "And I'm sorry Cheryl, but I've been ordered to, uh...well it's a long story." The witch pushed past the redhead before the girl could splutter any more questions. She returned to the task at hand; transporting the bodies to The Spellman's. Her family would do the rest, and the corpses would be returned to the forest as murder victims, and not casualties of Crusader sacrifice.

The spell was already on her lips as Sabrina took her place in front of the boy she had grown closest too, even when he was dead. Jones. She smiled down at him, and said a silent prayer for his soul. She half wondered if his spirit was standing behind her.

"Wait!" Cheryl was staggering towards her, green eyes wild once again. The spell would be wearing off soon. She had to get this over with. Sabrina closed her eyes, and began to mutter the chant; Aloymora, santanae...bora..mhoria..sens..." but she couldn't concentrate. Cheryl was once again a sobbing mess, her cries cutting through the witch's concentration. "But...but if you can do magic, you can bring- bring them back, right?"

"It doesn't work like that." Sabrina said, keeping her eyes squeezed shut. "Delayana..." she continued the spell, but her chest felt like it was in a metal vice. Cheryl was breathing down her neck. "Bring them back!" the girl hissed. "If you can do magic, you can fucking bring them back!" Ignore her. Sabrina told herself. Ignore her. Ignore her-

"Please!" Cheryl's voice turned pleading, and the teleportation spell slipped from Sabrina's lips. Suddenly words were coming from her mouth uncontrollably, like someone was forcing their voice through her. "Thelemic Liber Cadaveris..." the witch started to panic. Her eyes shot open, and she could already start to feel the spell taking effect. Cheryl was backing away, her mouth hanging open. "Carry on...." she whispered. "Don't stop, whatever you're doing....please." The girl was staring at a faded purple light beginning to pulse around the five bodies. Sabrina held her breath. She had to stop this- but Cheryl was crying, pleading with her to help her friends.

"Miss Spellman, I advise you not to do this." Salem said. But The words were already popping from Sabrina's lips before she could stop them. "Duant." she ended the incantation, biting into her wrist, drawing blood. It stung, but human blood was a sacrifice for revival. The second her blood dripped onto the forest floor, Sabrina felt something wash over, and she shivered, imagining five spirits being yanked back into their physical bodies. "Step back." she told Cheryl, who did just that, reaching for her hand.

At first nothing happened. And Sabrina wondered if she'd done the spell right. When she was about to turn to the redhead, apologising for messing up, her gaze found the Jones boy. The purple light seemed to be coming from within him, igniting him, filling him with life force stolen from the other side. Surely there would be consequences, but hearing the light crunch of healing bones, fatal wounds being knitted back together as an otherworldly force streamed through his veins. It filled her with surprising warmth. Sabrina waited for the cuts in his forehead to fade, and his skin to blossom a healthy red. But it didn't. The Jones boy no longer looked blackened and burned- but his skin was still deathly pale. His lips were still white, his eyes glued shut.

Oh god. Sabrina realized her mistake the second she noticed the blonde's legs twitch, the redheaded boy's neck twisting 180 degrees, exorcist style. All around her, Cheryl's friends were writhing on the ground like- well...like zombies.

"I don't think..." Sabrina turned to Cheryl, her eyes wide. "Cheryl- something's wr-"

But she didn't finish her sentence. Because the Jones boy who she thought would never see the light of day again, shot up from the ground. Cheryl squeaked, slamming a hand to her mouth, and Sabrina grabbed for the girl's hand, squeezing it tightly.

The boy's eyes were still sparking, illuminated the most beautiful shade of purple from the spell- before it dispersed immediately, leaving confused teal eyes staring back at her. His scarred hands automatically went to his head, a groan tumbling from his lips. Sabrina couldn't understand. The boy looked- he looked normal. The others started to spring awake too, a cacophony of confused groans hit her ears. One of the boys rolled over onto his back and giggled at the sky, his eyes half lidded, a lazy smirk on his lips. There was a scar slicing down his face. "Well shit, I had the weirdest dream..."

Sabrina focused on the Jones boy, even when the others were awake. He, unlike them- seemed to remember their grisly fate. His expression twisted into a grimace. "What..." He grumbled, running a hand through his thick brown hair before letting out a laugh, which turned into a broken sob. He lifted his head, red eyes glistening with tears. Jones still had a stab wound, a three inch cut down his torso. Sabrina winced, but maintained her gaze. She was afraid to look away. The blonde girl had drawn her knees to her chest, otherworldly blue eyes darting from Sabrina to Cheryl, scarred lips popping opening and closed like a goldfish.

It was when the red haired boy's nose flared and he sniffed the air experimentally, when alarm bells started ringing in Sabrina's head. But really, they should have started the moment she realised their skin wasn't going back to healthy red, rather staying at a deathly chalky white. 

"Oh dear." Salem murmured. He was sat near the blonde. He licked his paw. "Introducing the cast of The Walking Dead." he cackled. She glared at him. 

 _Not helping._  

Jones' voice was a weak croak which turned her stomach. Sabrina turned back to him staring at her. Like the blonde's, his eyes looked washed out. "Hold on," he let out a shuddery breath with might have been a laugh. 

Laughing was human. _She guessed._

"Didn't I just die?"

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos if you liked, and tell me what you think! :D


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